


Ol' Lenny

by SaraJaye



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever happened to Alan's nervous assistant manager? Eric drags Jack back to the Market Giant to investigate some rumors, but they're both in for quite a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ol' Lenny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RuleroftheHammock](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=RuleroftheHammock).



Title: Ol' Lenny  
Fandom: Boy Meets World  
For: RuleroftheHammock

 

"Okay, so run this by me again," Jack said. "We're sneaking into your dad's old grocery store even though neither of you have even _thought_ about the place for years, in the pouring ran, to get pictures of a _ghost?_"

"_Yeah!_" Eric said. "Every year the ghost of Leonard Spinelli comes here to hang out, and this year we're finally gonna be able to prove it!" He jammed the key into the lock and pushed the back door open all the way.

"So this Spinelli guy...what was he, this big bodybuilder wrestler or something?" Jack asked. "Cause Spinelli, it sounds like that kind of name."

"No, real skinny nervous guy, talked fast. Huge geek!" Eric sighed. "Boy, I remember ol' Lenny. Just cause Dad was the manager he bowed down to everyone in the family, even Morgan."

"Right." Jack nodded, wiping the rain from his face as they closed the door behind them. "So what happened, how did he die?"

"No one knows!" Eric replied, lowering his voice several pitches for a spooky effect. "Some say he was blown up in a boiler acciedent. Others say he took so many tranquilizers that one day he just never woke up. And other say..." He made a scary face, bringing his flashlight up to emphasize it. "He committed suicide."

By total coincidence, thunder began to rumble in the sky. Jack's eyes actually widened.

"That's terrible," he said.

"Yep." Eric sighed. "Nothing sadder than a depressed ghost, am I right?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"I still think this ghost rumor's nothing but a bunch of baloney," he said. "It's just some kids trying to scare each other."

"That's where you're wrong, Jack!" Eric whispered. "This isn't just some kiddie prank, our very smart and very grown-up sociology professor saw it last week! It was in the dairy section, and the ghost asked if she had some pimento loaf!"

"You mean Mrs. Meeshan? The one who dresses in tie-dye and wears all those little braids in her hair? Smells like incense?" Jack snorted. "I'd take her word with a grain of salt, man, she tends to make things up."

"Well, this time she wasn't!" Eric shot back. "What kind of grown-up would lie about something like that?"

"Look, let's just get this over with so we can get back to the apartment before Shawn and Angela decide the couch is a good place to make me a niece of nephew," Jack sighed. "Let's split up-"

"_No!_ When there's ghosts lurking around you don't split up!" Eric hissed, clinging to his arm. "We'll start in paper products and work our way around." Jack buried his face in his hand.

"Fine, whatever gets us outta here quicker."

*

It was easy to forget one's _real_ task while wandering a giant, empty grocery store late at night. Even for Jack, who had initially gone just to keep Eric out of trouble, gave in to the temptation to juggle the cheese or swordfight with the pepperonis. At one point they even got lost in a game of canned bean hockey which ended when they found themselves in the packaged meat aisle. Seeing the pimento loaf, he remembered why they were here.

"Okay, I think this is the last place he was spotted!" he said. "Everyone, keep your eyes peeled and no sudden movements, he scares easily!"

"Eric, we're the only ones-"

"_Shhh!_ Eric clamped a hand over his mouth. "If he hears us, he'll _ow_!" He yanked his hand back. "You didn't have to _bite me!_"

"Yeah, I kinda did or you wouldn't have let go," Jack said.

"I would've let go!" Eric protested. "...eventually."

"Look, let's agree to disagree for now, okay?"

"Fine. Got the camera ready?" Eric asked, then suddenly remembered something. "Aww, crud, ghosts don't show up on film! Now what are we gonna do about evidence?"

Jack sighed as the rain outside grew heavier.

"Give up, go home and stop Shawn and Angela from doing it on our couch?"

"Awww, you're such a cute overprotective big brother," Eric teased, giving him a noogie. Jack grunted angrily and pushed his hand back.

"You know, this whole thing's just been a waste of time," he said. "You're an idiot, there's no such things as ghosts, Mrs. Meeshan is nuts, and I only came along because you wouldn't stop begging. Sometimes I wonder if there's even a brain in your head, Eric Matthews, you're just so-"

His tirade was cut off by a crash, followed by a moan and the sound of someone struggling to their feet. Jack and Eric gasped, glomming onto each other in fear.

"It's him, it's him! See, I told you it was real!" Eric babbled. "Maybe he will show up on film, get the camera!" Jack dug around hastily in his pack, whipped out the Polaroid camera...and nearly dropped it when a figure approached them.

"Um, excuse me, sirs? Do either of you have a key to the restroom, I just realized I put my turtleneck on backwards this morning and this tag's really itching."

"I didn't know ghosts could feel itching," Jack muttered, slowly disengaging himself from Eric's grasp. "But...well, you're here so I guess Eric was right."

"Told ya!" Eric stuck his tongue out, then put on his most serious face and approached the figure. "Mr. Spinelli, do you remember me? Eric Matthews? I've got a few questions I wanna ask, if you don't mind."

"Sure, go ahead."

"First of all...how _did_ you die anyway?" Eric asked. "I hope you didn't kill yourself, cause that's just depressing. Second-"

The figure suddenly dashed off, and a moment later light flooded the market. Jack buried his face in his palms.

"Nice going, idiot, you scared him off! Number one rule of dealing with ghosts is never ask how they died!" he yelled.

"Oh, so now that you've seen a ghost for the first time suddenly you're Mr. Expert even though you called the idea stupid before?" Eric sighed. "Mr. Ghost, I'm sorry! Come back!"

"I'm right here." Jack and Eric yelped, then turned around to see a rather not-dead Leonard Spinelli standing before them.

"Then what-"

"It was too dark in here and my eyes hurt," Lenny said. "Now what's all this about a ghost?"

Jack and Eric looked at each other uneasily.

"Well...see, there's a rumor going around that you're dead and you haunt the Market Giant," Eric said. "So my buddy Jack and I wanted to get pictures and see if it was true."

"However, you appear to be alive," Jack added. "So clearly we've wasted our time!"

"Oh, okay, I guess you don't wanna hear what really happened, then," Lenny said. "No one does anyway, I'm used to it."

"_I_ wanna know what happened!" Eric said. "I mean, you disappeared two years before Dad sold the store and we never heard from you afterwards, and then every time someone came here we'd hear all this stuff about you being dead!"

"It's a long story," Lenny began, pulling up a few twenty-four packs of paper towels for them to sit on. "See, it all started after an incident with some Alka-Seltzer tablets and the lobster tank. Apparently that stuff makes them explode and no one wants to buy exploded crustaceans. Anyway, Mr. Matthews found out I did it and he was pretty upset so in order to save face I quit."

"Okay..." Jack nodded. "So did you get another job afterwards?"

"Nope! No supermarket would hire me after they found out about the lobsters, and I didn't wanna look anywhere else cause I'm no good at a lot of things," Lenny said. "So cut to a month later, I was runnin' outta money, the rent was due and I sorta flipped out."

"Nervous breakdown," Eric said. "That's what I'd heard."

"Yeah. Wasn't very pretty either, I was wanderin' the streets in my underwear singing show tunes," Lenny sighed. "I got my life back together, though, got me a wife and kids and a job painting houses!"

"Well, that's good!" Jack said. "So if your life turned out fine, why do you keep coming back here? And why do people still think you're a dead crazy guy?"

"Oh, I moved far away after I got better," Lenny said. "I come back here once a year to reminisce. I mean, it ended badly but the years I spent here were some of the best years of my life! I really liked your dad, Eric...your whole family, really, you guys were great!"

Eric smiled.

"I'm sure Dad thinks about you too, Lenny."

"Does he? Maybe I should give him a call sometime." Lenny laughed. "Well, I'd better get back before my wife gets worried, she doesn't like me taking the train in storms."

"Good idea, it's really coming down out there," Eric said. "Well...glad to see you're not dead, Lenny! Take care!"

"You too, Eric. Nice meeting you, Jack!" Lenny threw his coat on and walked out the door, and Jack shrugged.

"Nice guy. Bit of a head case, but he seemed pretty pleasant," he said. "Uh, listen, Eric, about what I was saying earlier-"

"Ah, forget it. We were both freaking out," Eric said. "But listen, just cause Mr. Spinelli wasn't dead doesn't mean there's no ghosts! We'll find them someday!"

"Sure we will." Jack shoved the camera back into his bag, and they headed out before the security guard woke up and discovered them. "By the way, you owe me a rematch. You know, for the canned beans hockey."

Eric grinned.

"You name the time and the place, pal, and I'll be there!"


End file.
